Handsome Guy, Please Marry My Mommy!

Why would he ask about this?

I felt guilty, unable to think of an explanation, almost panicking.

Next to me, Rebecca took a sip of her milk and said cheerfully. "Handsome Sir, don't be mad. She didn't invite me either!"

It seemed that my daughter had a good sense of humor.

Dylan's expression didn't soften. His gaze was intense as he continued, "What does she mean by those things she said? Are you thinking of cheating?"

I hadn't figured out how to respond.

Rebecca raised her hand and asked, "Handsome Sir, what's cheating?"

Dylan pursed his lips and replied, "It means your mom being with me."

Rebecca nodded, looking serious as she turned to me. "So, Mom, are you going to cheat?"

Dylan tapped the table with a casual air. "I'd like to know too."

Wait a minute.

For cheating to happen, I had to be in a relationship first.

"Speak."

Seeing I was lost in thought, Dylan impatiently tapped the table again.

Nervously, I nodded instinctively.

Dylan's face darkened instantly. "Debby, why on earth would you think I, Dylan, would lower myself to be your lover?"

Terrified, I shook my head rapidly. "No, no, no, that's not what I meant!"

Denying it didn't make Dylan's expression any less gloomy. In fact, he seemed even more angry. "So what you're saying is—I'm not even good enough to be your lover?"

I was on the verge of tears.

Either answer was wrong!

I looked around for help from my little hero, Rebecca, only to see her staring at the Ferris wheel in the distance.

I forced a smile. "Let's...discuss the case.

"Making money is so hard. Piracy is rampant, and we're so poor..."

I tried to sound pitiful, but Dylan just crossed his arms, scrutinizing me. His message was clear—Don't change the subject.

I quickly shouted, "We're so poor we can hardly make ends meet! Right, Rebecca?"

Rebecca, hearing her name, turned around immediately.

Realizing the situation, she put on her best puppy-dog eyes and whimpered, "Mommy, I'm hungry."

With Rebecca as my witness, my story seemed more believable. Dylan indeed let it go.

"And what about her father? Your... husband?" Dylan paused, looking like it was hard to ask.

"Uh..."

Sure enough, one lie led to another.

I was sweating. "He...he...he doesn't make any money."

Dylan's lips curved slightly into a mocking smile, but his tone was serious. "Then tell me, what attracted you to him?"

I cautiously looked up, avoiding his eyes, and answered tentatively, "His looks?"

"Superficial." Dylan's voice was emotionless.

The room was silent.

After a long pause, he spoke again, "Is looks all you care about?"